


Second Chance to Live

by eerian_sadow



Series: Avalon [92]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, mech smoochies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-07
Updated: 2008-06-07
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: It starts out in a closet, and ends with love. That's the only part of the trope it follows.Or, the story of how Ratchet finally got hit with a clue-by-four.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I’m pretty sure this isn’t what the prompter had in mind _at all_. Sorry about that. Even I wanted to go with some cute, semi-clichéd closet scenario. I ended up with war angst. *sigh* This always happens. Hope I managed to make up for it with the ending.

The Decepticons had been kidnapping Autobot and Neutral medics for close to twelve cycles before anyone in command assigned them bodyguards. They had started kidnapping anyone with even rudimentary medical training almost immediately after that. No one knew what happened to the kidnapped medics, but none of them had been heard from since.

That was almost three meta-cycles ago. Resources were stretched more thinly than they had been when the kidnappings started, so some mechs had to give their bodyguards back to the army. It created more tension in an already tense situation; each medic silently wondered if they would be the next to be taken.

Wheeljack, being an engineer and inventor first, and a medical assistant third, gave up his bodyguard with a joke and no fuss. He simply attached himself to his best friend and Ratchet’s bodyguard, citing safety in numbers.

Ratchet wasn’t sure how to take the situation. He wanted his friend safe, but guarding two mechs from an unknown threat would stretch his young bodyguard pretty thin. Melody, a cheerful orange femme who had been a singer before the war, assured him that taking care of both of them would be no problem—as long as Wheeljack didn’t blow them up.

As a result, they were together when the Decepticons attacked the base.

Melody didn’t hesitate. She pulled her pistol from subspace and herded her charges to a more defensible position. Ratchet and Wheeljack both looked surprised when she ushered them into a maintenance closet, but she silenced their protests with a glare.

“Stay here,” she commanded. “And don’t come out until someone comes and gets you out.”

“Melody,” Ratchet argued, “We have to be in the medbay. I can’t let—“

“What part of this do you not understand?” She shoved the medic into the closet and closed the door. “No matter what happens, or what you hear, don’t come out until another Autobot comes for you.”

“Melody!” The chief medic pounded on the door, trying to get the femme to speak to him again.

His only response was the sound of the door locks falling into place. Locks that they would never be able to open from this side of the door.

“This is her job, Ratch,” Wheeljack told him, sliding down one wall to the floor. “This is her assignment and it’s what we have to let her do.”

Ratchet slid down the wall opposite his friend. “I know that. But it hurts to be sending her out there on our behalves. We should be out there doing something, too.”

“I know how you feel.” The engineer reached out and took the medic’s hand in his own, an easy feat in the tiny closet. “But you know you’d be the first they would take if they found you.”

“I know. It would net them another medic and cripple the morale of Optimus Prime’s unit.” Ratchet gave the other mech’s hand. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No.”

They looked toward the door as the sound of fighting came closer and fell silent. They listened as blows and blaster fire were exchanged, hiding in the dark from an enemy they weren’t allowed to face.

They kept their hands joined, the almost crushing pressure the only comfort they could give each other in the darkness.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Wheeljack had fallen into recharge sometime after the first groon of fighting. The sounds of the fighting were going to make him crazy if all he could do was sit and listen, so he opted out. He’d been short on rest anyway.

He was brought out of recharge abruptly, by an explosion that sounded like it was right outside their closet’s door.

The engineer looked over at his best friend, whose optics glowed brightly in the dark. “Slag, Ratchet! Did they find us?”

“I don’t think so,” Ratchet replied sadly. “That’s the fourth explosion I’ve heard. I think they’re destroying the base.”

“And we’re still trapped here.” Wheeljack wanted to panic, but there was no point. Panic would not delay or change the inevitable. “Slag.”

“Language, Jack.” Despite his obvious sadness, Ratchet’s tone was reproachful. “If we’re going to die, I don’t want to go out listening to you curse.”

The engineer stared at his friend in shock for a moment. “You hypocrite!”

The medic chucked at his friend’s affronted tone. “Maybe. But you don’t hear me cursing about our situation, do you?”

Wheeljack had to admit that Ratchet was right. “But that doesn’t make you less of a hypocrite. Just because we might die is not a good enough reason to clean up my language. Five minutes of a cleaner vocal processor is not going to make either of us look better when we get to the Matrix.”

It was Ratchet’s turn to admit Wheeljack was right. It wouldn’t change anything they’d done in the past. “But it makes me feel better now. I’d rather approach deactivation calmly, if this is how I have to go.”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Instead, Wheeljack stood up and took the step needed to cross the closet and sat back down next to Ratchet, close enough that they were touching at shoulder and hip. They were still able to hear explosions through the base, though none as close as the one that brought him out of recharge.

Despite the fact that the danger seemed to have passed, both mechs wanted whatever comfort they could draw from each other.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

They hadn’t spoken for groons after Wheeljack had crossed the closet and Ratchet wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t want to feed each other’s fear or if they didn’t want to feed their own. Sometime during the waiting, though, Jack’s arm had tentatively reached across his shoulders, and the medic hadn’t argued—or minded, really. In response, he had laid his head on the engineer’s shoulder and tried not to think about the implications.

He had known or heard of far too many mechs who had interpreted the emotions of combat stress or imprisonment incorrectly and ruined strong relationships with the fall out. Ratchet did not want to be one of those mechs.

“What are you thinking about, Ratch?” Wheeljack asked. “I can hear your processor working.”

Ratchet rubbed his head where it rested on the engineer’s shoulder. “This. And then I try not to think about it.”

The other mech was silent for a long joor, but he didn’t move his arm or make the medic move his head. “Can I make a confession?”

“Sure.” Ratchet didn’t think it could really make their situation any worse than it was, and it might take his mind off their problem.

“I’m in love with this other mech, but I’m pretty sure he just wants to be friends,” Wheeljack said. “And I never knew how to tell him, and now I think I’ve missed my chance.”

“You mind if I ask who this other mech is?”

“You.”

Ratchet froze. His thoughts filled his processor almost faster than he could comprehend them. He couldn’t process his own feelings at the idea; he’d never even considered Wheeljack that way before.

Wheeljack pulled his arm back and scooted away from the medic. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything after all.”

“Don’t do that,” Ratchet told his friend. “Don’t distance yourself from me now.”

“But you—“

“Got taken by surprise. And I don’t know what I think of it, but I’m not upset.” The medic scooted across the floor so he could stare his friend in the optics. “Don’t you dare try to run now, though. Not now that it’s on the table in front of us.”

Ratchet saw the flashing lights on Wheeljack’s headfins that meant the engineer was speaking, but the other mech’s words were drowned out by a sudden, loud creaking in the floor. He just had time to grab Wheeljack’s hand as the floor fell out from under them.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“Optimus, over here! Steeljaw says he found something!”

Wheeljack came back online with a groan at the sound of Blaster’s voice. He tried to sit up, but was restrained by a gentle hand on his chest.

“Don’t move Jack. You’re stable for the moment, but I don’t know how long that will last if you try to get up.” Ratchet’s face came into blurry focus above him.

“Ratch? I think my optics are broken.” It seemed trite, almost meaningless after what had happened, but it was the first thing that came out of his vocal processor.

“They are,” the medic confirmed. “You landed on your head when the floor fell in. Just take it easy; Steeljaw was here just a joor ago. He’ll bring help and we’ll both get out of here.”

“Are you okay, Ratchet? Take care of yourself if you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. The damage is nothing I can repair myself anyway.” The other mech looked away for a moment, distracted by something the engineer couldn’t hear. “I can hear someone digging out there, Jack. Won’t be long now.”

Wheeljack moved a shaking hand to cover the one resting on his chest. “Then rest. There’s no reason to overstress yourself while we’re just waiting.”

Ratchet gave him a look he couldn’t read—probably because he couldn’t see it properly—and did as instructed. Wheeljack couldn’t see his friend’s face now, but the medic’s hand was still under his own and resting on his chest.

The reminder that they were both still alive was enough.

“Wheeljack,” the medic’s voice was hesitant. “About what you said in there…”

“You don’t have to say something you don’t mean,” Jack said softly. “I won’t be sparkbroken if you tell me you do only want to be friends.”

“That’s not it. What I’m trying to say is that I’m willing to try.” Ratchet’s free hand came up to cup the side of his face. “I know I’m going to have to go slow, because I still don’t know how I feel, but I’m willing to try.”

For the first time he could remember, Wheeljack regretted the fact that he couldn’t smile. “Thank you, Ratchet. I know that wasn’t an easy decision, so thanks.”

“Actually,” the medic replied, “It was easier than it probably should have been.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“Hey, Ratchet, what are you doing right now?”

Ratchet turned to his lover with a smile. It was easier to do now that he admitted to himself that Wheeljack was his lover and not just someone he was seeing for drinks after work. “Nothing, why?”

“What are you doing in two groons?” Wheeljack’s headfins flashed with good humor.

“Still nothing, as long as Megatron doesn’t start anything.” The medic gave the engineer and puzzled look. “What is this about?”

“Did you forget? This is our anniversary.” Some of Wheeljack’s good mood faded. “You know, getting trapped in the closet, almost dying when the floor collapsed, me confessing my love for you.”

“I remembered,” Ratchet said. “I just…hadn’t really planned anything big.”

The lights in Wheeljack’s headfins went out completely. He was obviously trying to hide his disappointment. “Oh. I thought you’d want to do something.”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t want to do anything,” the medic disagreed. “Just that I hadn’t planned anything. I figured you would have done that already.”

“Sometimes I want you to take the initiative, too, you know.”

Looking at his lover’s fallen face and slumped posture, Ratchet suddenly felt like an aft. “Jack, I’m sorry. You’re usually two hundred steps ahead of me with that kind of thing; I just didn’t think.”

“I really wanted this to be a special day,” Wheeljack said, not meeting the medic’s eyes. “I wanted to do things that both of us wanted to do, not just something one or the other had planned.”

“That plan might have worked better if you had told me that,” Ratchet said gently.

“Yeah,” the engineer agreed, softly. “You’re just usually so good at knowing what I want, that I didn’t think about it.”

Ratchet gave Wheeljack a long look. “I’m sorry I ruined everything for you.” He knew that he hadn’t really ruined their anniversary, it had taken both of them for that, but saying it would make the engineer feel better.

“Thanks, Ratch, but it’s not really your fault.” Wheeljack jumped onto one of the medical berths and sat there, looking at the other mech sadly. “So, do you still want to do something?”

Ratchet moved over to his lover and stood in front of him. He placed gentle hands around the engineer’s waist and pulled the other mech close. “Of course I do. You want to leave now?”

“Can you?”

“Sure. The other medics can handle the patients we have in here.” Ratchet stepped back, pulling Wheeljack with him. “Come on.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“Ratchet, why are we at your quarters?” Wheeljack was confused, and a little disappointed. The chief medical officer’s quarters were not what he’d had in mind when he had said he wanted to go someplace for their anniversary.

“I have something for you,” Ratchet replied. “I didn’t want to give it to you in medical.”

The engineer followed the medic inside, curious now. What would Ratchet want to give him that he couldn’t—or didn’t want to—give him in front of the rest of the medical staff?

Ratchet moved unhesitatingly to his desk and picked up a box. He looked a bit embarrassed as he handed it to the engineer. “Happy anniversary, Jack.”

Wheeljack took the box and turned it over in his hands, looking for a clue to its contents. When he didn’t find one, he shrugged and opened it. He pulled out a finely shaped piece of metal and turned it in the light.

“Ratchet, this is a jaw assembly…”

“I know. Specifically, it’s a lower jaw assembly. If Perceptor and I made it right, it should fit under your mask with no problems.” The medic still looked embarrassed.

The engineer stared at the jaw assembly for a moment longer before stepping forward to embrace the other mech. “Thank you.”

The medic returned the embrace. “I was afraid you’d be offended. I never even asked if you wanted that jaw assembly replaced; I just assumed.”

“It was a good assumption. I’ve wanted to be able to smile at you for so long.”

“I can’t wait to see it, then.”

“I love you, Ratch.” Wheeljack tightened his grip on the other mech, so he couldn’t pull away. “I know I promised I wouldn’t say it until you were ready, but—“

“I love you too, Jack.” Ratchet gave the other mech a soft smile. “I have for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Their moment was interrupted by a soft, metallic click.

“Was that the door lock?” Wheeljack asked.

“Yeah, I think it was,” Ratchet replied.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

To say that Prowl was upset at Ratchet’s absence from the morning staff meeting would have been an understatement. Saying he was outraged as he stalked down the hall to the chief medical officer’s quarters would have been much closer to the truth.

“Honestly, Prowl, I don’t think Ratchet’s absence from the meeting this morning is anything to worry about,” Perceptor said, jogging to keep pace with the tactician. “We made arrangements for me to cover his shift this morning. I’m certain that he simply forgot about the meeting.”

“That is not the point, Perceptor. He had a responsibility to at least inform us of his absence.” The Autobot second in command stopped outside the medic’s quarters and entered his override code into the lock.

Perceptor waited in the hallway while Prowl entered the room. A moment later, the tactician stepped back out of Ratchet’s quarters, his entire posture looking embarrassed. The scientist had to hide a grin.

“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Perceptor told him.

“Do you have any idea what they’re doing in there?”

Preceptor leaned around Prowl and looked into his friend’s quarters. “It would appear that they are kissing.”

“Thank you for reminding me.” Prowl looked even more embarrassed.

The red mech gave the black and white a smile. “Let them be. It is their anniversary, after all.”

Prowl stayed silent as Perceptor closed and relocked the door.  



End file.
